


Dark Light

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Magic Universe, Dark Light Magicker Host, Implied Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magical AU with John a White Magicker and Sherlock a Dark Magicker. The battle against Moriarious, the Dark Lord of the North begins. There is help from beyond, but a high price must be paid for victory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magickers

John was a Warrior/Healer/Magicker. He was not tall of stature, but he was smart, perceptive and one of the strongest warrior/healers/magickers in all the twelve realms. Honored by all, John was an easy man to love. He protected and healed all within the Land of Mists.

In the North, land of the Rivers, Moriarious ruled, a Black magician who was heartless, ruthless and bent on chaos in all its many forms. Moriarious ruled by death and destruction. All dark magicians feared his power; everyone who could fled from his realm. Only those people unable to flee were captive, otherwise the North lay abandoned. None ventured where Moriarious ruled.

John was gathering power to himself so that he could venture forth and free those people of the North still held in service to the Dark Lord. He knew that he did not have enough magic to stand against Moriarious yet. He asked volunteers to come with him in his quest to banish Moriarious from the land. He was an abomination, his magic filthy and corrupting. John knew that merged white and black magicks might have the power to overthrow Moriarious. It was a theory anyway, one he had hopes for, but he could find no practitioner of black magic who would follow him.

Comfortable in his home John puttered about cooking and making tea, enjoying this peaceable time, which could be the last for him; knowing that he might not make it home again from this campaign. Michael Stamford had come to visit John to ask him to reconsider his course of action; taking on Moriarious was too dangerous for one magician. He brought with him an acquaintance, Ravens. Stamford was an old friend from Saint Bartholomew, the healer’s school and John listened as he gave his argument. In the end, Stamford was unable to dissuade John. Aware that twilight was approaching Stamford stood to leave, the quiet Ravens did not stand. 

“I think I will take further pleasure in the company of John,” Ravens said. 

Stamford did not question this, just gave John a wink and a nod before he left. John was interested in learning more about the dark visitor.

Ravens was very tall and extremely slender man, his dark hair a mass of curls that hung down past his shoulders, tied back into a queue that hung down his back. He had an exotic, ethereal look and his eyes, gods his eyes, were Londinium fog grey, lightening blue and Oceania green. He was dressed in the finest silks and linens with black leather jacket and pants. A cloak of extremely expensive Belfast wool about his slender shoulders. He came from money no doubt. 

“So you seek to go up against Moriarious? The menace that no one dares, surly you have a short count of moons head of you, John?” 

“Forgive me Ravens but I couldn’t help notice you were very quiet during Stamford’s visit and yet somehow I feel I know you from somewhere. Have we met before?”

“Yes, my dear John,” Ravens said as he lowered the glamour that concealed his ginger locks and fair skin touched by constellations of freckles which over laid his alabaster skin. Overwhelmed John felt hot tears of happiness fill his eyes. His lover had returned to him. Sherlock’s smile was wise and sad. His pink and luscious lips remembered many a salacious kiss from his John.

“Sherlock,” John, wrong footed by the sudden reveal came forward to give Sherlock a hug of relief and unbridled joy.

Sherlock held John in a loving embrace. Then pulled him away to look deeply into his midnight blue eyes with all the love that he felt in his heart.

“Am I still welcome into your warm bed as the lover I once was?”

“Ever welcomed, always lover,” John favored his companion with another strong hug.

(-_-) From whence they met

John barely 23 when he met the posh rebel child of a rich man’s family just turning 18. Sherlock had seen immediately that John was something special, something beyond magic and had fallen in love with the healer who made no judgments on him but healed him with gentle affection when his actions with dark magic got him injured.

Coming back from rounds at the healing hospice John pulled his warm cloak tighter around him against the driving rain and hurried home. The grey dusk was approaching and winter rains filled streets with near flooding waters. No one dare the cold wetness save a solitary figure that crept along the houses holding himself up right by force of will alone.

John looked upon the tall man/child that pressed toward him and saw the signs of injury from dark magic. Why would a youth so inexperience practice such potent magic? John stopped as the youngster pasted. Knowing that taking in the young pup now was going to be a strain upon his time; John sighed heavily and went after the gangly youth. 

“I see that you have been injured, Sir, I’m a healer. My name is John of the Watsonian clan. Come with me, you need help that I can provide.”

As the young man looked to him, he saw no judgment in John’s eyes.

“I’m Sherlock of the Holmesford clan. My family practices dark magic, healer. Do you still want to help me?”

“Dark magic is a strong but not necessarily bad. It is the people who practice it in hurtful ways that give the magic a cruel aspect.”

“You are wise, healer. Many of your practice would cast me out. Not offer aid.”

“Come let me help you to my home.” John took the young man’s arm and brought it across his strong shoulders. Taking up some of Sherlock’s weight as they make their way to John’s comfortable home.

Into the house, the kindling in the hearth ignited quickly and the home was warm in a short time. John brought a basin of warm water, towels and fresh clothing that Sherlock could change into as he gathered his medical kit. 

“So you are Holmesford, they are a large clan that lives in the Mountain realm. You are far from home. Were you accosted by thieves?” John checked the young man out. Applied salves and ointments to his wounds. Casing a healing spell that would begin the eradication of the wounds inflicted by the rebound of the dark spell. John brought a meal to the table. “I’m sure you are used to more extravagant faire, but I’m a new healer myself and I have few clients and sponsors as yet.”

“I appreciate your hospitality. A gang of rogues did waylaid me several days ago. They took my supplies and my horse. I used dark magic to repel them, but some of it rebounded onto me. I feared I would never make it to safety.”

“You wield dark powers at such a young age?”

“I have used magic from the age of ten.” Sherlock was proud of his accomplishments. 

“You can stay here while you mend. Can I make announcements to your family? Let them know that you are safe?”

“Are there ravens about. One could carry my message for me. While I was injured none dare approach me; magic ill-used deters them from coming close.”

“You will sleep in my bed until you are better. I will make up a cot out here in the sitting room.” John said as he sorted the dishes.

“John, you fancy me. I saw it in your eyes when first you looked upon me. In my weakened state, you could press your prerogative over me. Take what you will and only my word would stand against you.”

John smiled and leaned against the table that stood between them.

“I take only willing partners to my bed, young knave.” John said light-heartedly. “So your virtue and your sleep are safe here.”

“I did make the decision to come with you.” Sherlock smiled which made his youthful face look even younger. “With your great care, I will soon be well. Thanks be to your directness and your honor, Healer. I do hope that your interest does not wane. As I would like to be a willing partner in the future.” Sherlock smiled, his haggard appearance brightened briefly by his attempt at flirtation.

(-_-)

Sherlock’s brief encounter turned to nearly two years of stay. John became a much sought after healer and magic teacher. Sherlock actively avowed his knowledge of dark magic to those they helped. All agreed that the two magickers both light and dark worked exceptionally well together and they magicks were extremely potent and always welcomed. 

(-_-)

Sherlock hefted his heavy saddlebags over his shoulder.

“You look to be bound on a journey, Sherlock? Where away?”

“John I must leave you for a while. News came today. My family and home are under attack. The mad man Moriarious flaunts his powers and seeks to destroy my homeland.”

“Give me but a brief time to get my affairs in hand and I will join you,” John said. His lover would not venture against Moriarious alone.

Embarrassed. Sherlock lowered his saddlebags to the floor. “I’m afraid that would not be wise, John. My family have not had good encounters with wielders of white magic. Several of my siblings were ravaged, left for dead at our borders so you would not be welcome I’m afraid.”

Sherlock brought forth a hand carved moonstone with the sign of love upon its smooth surface. A local jeweler had cradled the stone in silver and attached it to a silver chain. “I gift this to you, John. Wear it as a sign of my love and loyalty to you. None other will ever have my heart except you.” The pain in Sherlock’s eyes revealed his distraught spirit.

“I understand now your distain at accepting my help initially. What will you family feel when they find you have taken a white magicker to bed?”

“They will eventually come round. I will bring your honor forward. There are black AND white magicians not worthy of praise. You are not one of them.” Sherlock loved John so and leaving him was a torture in itself. 

“If you will not let me ride at your side. At least take my best horse. Take Snowfall as my gift to extol your journey. Let him take you swiftly home and bring you safely back to me.”

“Aye, my love. I will be honored to let that great beast bear me away.” Sherlock knew that Snowfall was John’s best and most favored steed.

Sherlock left and soon after huge ravens came to John’s bedroom window near dusk carrying words from his beloved and taking away small notes from John back to Sherlock. Nearly a year into their communication a huge raven came bearing a distressing note. 

*Beloved, the battle goes ill. Death has taken most of my family and I must hasten to bring my people to safety. I know not when I shall be able to speak again. We look to the East, to the land of forests, hoping to find refuge. Black magickers are not welcomed at many doors. Hold me in your heart. SH*

John was panic-stricken. He sent a message back asking Sherlock to bring his people to the land of the Mists. That they would find succor there. Warmth and friendship; refuge from the tyranny of Moriarious. No return message ever came. John queried every traveler that came from anywhere near the Mountain realm. All said that death and destruction had rained upon the land and it lay barren of people and hope.

Then nearly a month after; Snowfall came limping into the village. Badly burned on the right side of his body, with an arrow festering in his right shoulder. He was malnourished and exhausted. John set about healing the animal. He would never be the great beauty that he once had been, but he would live a long life. John felt despair cling to his heart. If Snowfall had suffered injury, what of Sherlock? Could Sherlock be dead? John burned sage and sweet grass to request from the elders of old, safe passage for his lover. Whether he moved still on the earth or on into the Great Beyond. 

(-_-)

Their happy reunion at hand. John brought mead out to celebrate.

“Why do you glamor your identity, my love.” John asked.

“I seek to remain unknown. Moriarious thinks that he has destroyed my family and people. I come, John, to join you. Having heard that you gather magickers to go against the Dark Lord.” 

Sherlock looked upon John’s weathered face; he saw the silver chain still visible against John’s darkened skin just beneath his shirt. Touching the chain, he brought the moonstone to the light. 

“You wear it still.” Visibly moved Sherlock caressed the stone. 

“I will always wear your gift of love, always, Sherlock.” John said.

“I feared when Snowfall left our last battle ground that he might return home and you would think me destroyed. My people fought as they fled. Snowfall saved my life, and I was loath not to be able to bring him with us to our refuge. We had little time and few hands to care for the elder, sick and wounded. It broke my heart to leave him so badly injured. Neither could I bear to bring him a merciful death.”

“And if it please you, that great-hearted beast did make it home and lives a grand life. Come to the barn and he will welcome you as I have.”

They made their way to the barn. John had many fine steeds. There in the biggest stall stood the great white stallion. He remembered his former master. Coming towards the approaching men, shaking his head and making huffing sounds of recognition. Snowfall put his massive head over the railing to nudge Sherlock playfully.

John pulled a small apple from his jacket and offered it to Sherlock. With tears of gratitude, he took the apple and offered it to the horse. Then he cradled the huge head in his long arms as the beast munched the treat.

“Though you do not have the beauty that was once yours, Snowfall. I would rather you bear me into battle than any other.” Sherlock wiped the tears from his eyes and stoked the massive head with love. “I hoped that he would find someone to care for him as I could not.”

“Think not about those stressful times. Come share my bed and tell me of your time away from me.” John guided his young love back into their bedchamber.

“There is so much to tell. I have news from Leith who came to visit me within the last moon.” Sherlock said as they strode toward the house.

“Strange, I had a grandfather named Leith.” John commented. “He died when I was very young.”

“It is him of whom I speak,” Sherlock said.

“You jest.” John brought his lover to a stop and turned him to gaze into his beautiful eyes. 

“The magickers of old seek you out.” Sherlock said and soundly kissed his John upon his shocked lips.


	2. Convergence of Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, Sherlock and John must venture into the Dark Lord Moriarious' land. They have a plan. They will be placing their lives and love on the line. But there is treachery afoot and Moriarious' spies are everywhere. What will be their fate. Then Sherlock is taken prisoner. Can they still overcome the monster of Dark Magick? Only time will tell.

They knew time was pressing upon them. Moriarious drew near. Yet many months had parted them; their own needs circumvented the approaching darkness for a short time. Ensconced in their lovers’ bed, John and Sherlock enjoy long hours of lust and love. Sherlock lifted a small glass of mead and held it to the lips of his magicker lover. They smiled at one another in one perfect moment of happiness knowing their private time would be over soon. 

“Would that we could stay in this bed for many long years.” Sherlock said as he snuggled close to John. “Moriarious moves to invade the Land of Mists. He will destroy all the twelve realms soon if we do not intervene. I have crossed many lands looking for aid from any who would give it. None came forward. Everyone fears him.” Sherlock advised John.

John came back to the unexpected news of his honored grandfather. He had wanted and not wanted to learn more. 

“You say my grandfather visited you?”

“Leigh Watsonian came to me. One of my talents being to interface with magickers gone to the Great Beyond. When magickers die, they learn the great truth that we already know, John. We have worked together in the past. Worked quite well. The dark and white Magicks are vital to each other, the balance and harmony of energies is more important than petty differences here on this plane of existence. He came to me vowing that Moriarious would be stopped, the world saved.”

“Can you summons him now, Sherlock?”

Pushing at the vales of the world with his mind Sherlock laid back. His back thumped against the heavy wooden headboard of John’s bed. The visage of a man appeared walking from somewhere into the room. Leigh looked like an older version of John, his bearing, his mannerisms, his hair longer and greyer. His weathered face more warrior than healer, but Watsonian all the same.

“Honored grandfather.” John looked upon the sire he had never met then remembered he sat in his debauched bed with his lover at his side. “Possibly not the best place to speak from,” he spoke embarrassed to his bones.

Leigh looked upon his progeny and a warm lustful smile visited his lips. “John, with this one,” he indicated Sherlock, “it is impossible to not include sex in the equation. We must be brief, lad, Sherlock is drained physically by holding the door to worlds open.”

“I understand that the Magickers, both black and white, wish to help in overthrowing Moriarious. What must we to do to facilitate this? I fear there is no one here willing to help me stop him here.” John was in awe knowing of his grandfather’s legendry history having heard so many tales of his courage and wisdom on and off the battlefield. 

“We will stop him, but you must be prepared to sacrifice in the service of his downfall. I must go now. You will talk to Sherlock about arrangements to bring forth the Dark Light host at the appointed time. Now complete your lover yet again for his desire is not yet quenched.” Leigh smiled turning to a door that was not there and left the room.

John turned to Sherlock who slid down to the surface of the bed. His weariness quite evident, yet his sexual desire evident also. “You would not want to disappoint your grand sire would you?”

“Somehow I think you and my grandsire are involved in more than the intrigue of Moriarious.”

Sherlock gave John his innocent eyes. John sighed, bending to fulfil his grand sire’s request.

(-_-)

John’s housekeeper, Lady Hudson came round early in the morning to part the curtains around the bed. She placed John’s clothing for the day out on his chair. Making sure the pitchers had fresh water and the towels were clean. She was a sturdy old soul who was in charge of all the workings of John’s home and his medical/teaching practices. She had been a dancer of great renown in her younger years and still was quite spry for her age.

“John, Sherlock will you be having breakfast in bed, dears, or can I coax you to the breakfast table with some fresh breads, savory cheeses and apples from Jacobs’s orchard?”

Both men were used to her gentle, bright intrusions into their bedchamber. Sherlock pulled his pillow over his head as John sat up and stretched. One hand coming to rest on Sherlock’s curly head, shaking the hand full of silken auburn curls; he tugged his lover toward him.

“Up we come together, there is much to do and plan.”

“I am up for the upping and the coming.” Sherlock mused and took John in an amorous embrace. 

“No, no, no!” John admonished. “We must talk about our attack upon Moriarious and his forces. There will be time enough for tumbling in bed when we have done with him.” John was ever the parental member of the two men.

“John, I have missed you kind ministrations, your sexual attentions and your warm, comfortable bed. Do not throw me from it so soon.” Sherlock pleaded in mocking tones. He knew there was not much time. He knew, yet he wanted to savor John’s company for as long as he could.

“Lady Hudson, have some of your wonderful breakfast brought to our room. Make sure some of your famous honey cakes accompany breakfast too. The ones that Sherlock will slay dragons for.” John smirked and ducked as Sherlock’s pillow went sailing through the air to collide with his head.

(-_-)

“Leigh said that you would tell me what we must do to bring about Moriarious’ demise.” John stood across a huge table from Sherlock in the library. Several of John’s peers would take over his patients and teaching duties, leaving John free to plan the overthrow of the Dark Lord.

“Moriarious controls the minds of people to make them follow his will.” Sherlock sat at the desk unrolling the maps of the twelve realms. 

“How is that possible Sherlock? A necromancer can control one or two people at a time. None has ever been able to control an army.”

“Remember the army he wields is made up of those who could not flee from him control. Women, children, the elderly and the sick. These are not people that any army that we could raise would find honor going against. Thus as he conquers other realms, men now fall victim to his Magick. They say he is like a spider, he commands people to his presence and when they leave they are slaves to his service.”

“That is hard to believe. My grand-sire said that we could beat Moriarious. What was his plan?” John sat across from Sherlock attentive to his every word.

“That is the difficult part of the plan. We must find our way into Moriarious’ keep. Together we will open a portal between planes to allow the Dark Light Host to enter into this world to defeat him.”

“Oh, is that all. I thought it was going to be hard.” John said sarcastically. 

Then John latched onto the idea of opening the portal. “Opening the portal to allow Leigh to enter this world completely drained you for nearly two days. How are we going to open a portal that will allow many individuals at once?”

“You are too wise. Yes, opening the portal will not be easy. The two of us together, merging Dark and Light Magicks. That will be our strength against the Dark Lord. The Dark Light host would not have to be too large. Maybe one hundred individuals at most.”

 

“One hundred against Moriarious, is this even possible? How will you survive this energy drain? I will not risk your life for a stratagem that may fail.” John rounds the table that stands between Sherlock and him. Taking his lover in his arms, he hugs him close.

“I will not lose you.” For the first time since he began his quest to defeat Moriarious, John feels fear. “I felt such pain when Snowfall returned injured and without you. No word from you and the evidence of a cruel battle. I lost you once; I will not lose you again.” 

John buried himself in Sherlock’s presence. His lover’s heartbeat the only thing that he craved.

“John. We have worked together in the past. We know our combined Magicks can be more potent and powerful than either of us alone. Now we must trust to our convergence of powers. To free the peoples of the North, to thwart the menace of Moriarious overcoming us all. His reign of terror would destroy humanity. Corruption of Magicks would happen. We have to do this. You and I. Together we can defeat him.”

“The more I hear of his power and his savagery. One hundred and two against his host? Could opening this portal bring your death?”

There was the question that Sherlock knew he would have to answer. “It is possible.” He said calmly. “I have never attempted to admit such a large host. This will be the first and hopefully the last time the door between worlds will be flung open.”

“And if we open it and die in the attempt, who will close the door? Will the worlds bleed into one another? The two worlds are separate, not meant…” John stopped, realizing the overall problem. “We could destroy reality, couldn’t we? We could do what Moriarious plans. Chaos and destruction. Oh, Elders of the Darkness! This is a great responsibility.”

“Yes, my love. You see true. We may win and in winning lose. We may lose and in losing, bring about the end of all reality.”

John sank down into a nearby chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Pour me some wine, Sherlock. I think I need to be drunk right now.”

Sherlock brought the goblet of wine and sat next to John. His hand upon John’s knee, his eyes fixed on his lover’s face.

“Trust in me. Trust in us.” Sherlock smiled. His auburn hair alight with the candles glow. His constellation of freckles came forward as he laid a gentle kiss upon John’s worried brow.

(-_-)

Sherlock sat astride Snowfall, the great stallion though battle scarred radiated life and energy. Beside him, John rode a huge roan stallion, whose name was Tindendale. John called him Tinny. The two stallions raised side by side in John’s stable tolerated each other well. Falling into a ground-consuming pace that would take the two Magickers North. Into Moriarious’ web. Into the dark heart of his domain.

They wore no armor, carried no weapons. Their strong Magick was their protection. They had merged their magick’s together. Their souls fused into one, they were stronger together than either one alone. They knew that they might fail and in failing lose each other. That was their greatest fear. To lose the precious love that they had found in each other’s hearts.

(-_-)

Moriarious was pleased. His great savage heart beat with something akin to disaster; for death, disaster and madness were what he craved. He had no plans other than to see chaos at every turn. Darkness in every heart and the fires of destruction consume everything to ash.

Feared by all, knowing that the dark and white Magickers would not come together against him. His wrath would invoke a punishment that none could endure. Of course, he had heard of the young Magickers that worked black and white Magicks together. He knew of their ability to see beyond the prejudices of their elders and peers. He knew and he plotted to end them. Moriarious knew none would stand before him. He laughed to himself and called forth his court, they bowed deeply with frightened faces in his presence. He would delight in crushing the approaching men. To make an example of them, so that none would dare to stand against the Dark Lord ever again.

He sent out a force of men to intercept the couple as they approached. His spies were everywhere and none could escape his all-seeing vision.

(-_-)

John brought Tinny to a halt as the two lovers approached a valley that lead to Moriarious’ keep.

“The dark Magick sickens me as we draw closer.” John gently massaged his temple with his gloved hand to dissipate the pain.

Sherlock dismounted and came over to John to assist him. Just at that moment, riders approached from all sides. Screaming their intent to capture the Magickers. Without thinking, Sherlock swiftly slapped the flank of Tindendale to urge the beast away. He leapt back towards Snowfall and the stallion stood quite still in all the commotion. Yet the riders were upon Sherlock as he mounted Snowfall. Though the horse struggled to bring his rider away to safety, too many soldiers encompassed him. Many hands dragged Sherlock to the ground as Snowfall bit and kicked his way to safety. Not allowing anyone but his master to hinder him.

Sherlock fought to regain his feet, looking about, searching for John. Riders pursued him during the chaos. Tinny, however, was like the wind in his speed. Never to be caught by the likes of these men and their mediocre horses.

Binding him, throwing him into a horse drawn cart for transport back to the Dark Lord, Sherlock could not see John. His heart rejoiced that at least he had gotten away. Sherlock knew that everything depended upon John now. Everything.

(-_-)

A bloodied and bruised Sherlock locked in heavy chains was ushered before Moriarious. His orders had been to damage the Magicker as much as possible without really killing him. Forced to kneel before the Dark Lord, Sherlock bowed his head in pain as Moriarious gloated.

“Oh, my dear, you look a fright. Does my hospitality not please you?” Moriarious was in a whimsical mood. There was no denying that the mad man was at his worse when he sustained these moods.

“Death comes for you, riding a roan horse.” Sherlock managed to speak, though the left side of his face; swollen, bruise badly and stained in his own red blood made even the courtiers turn away.

“Ah, yes. I have heard much about the two Magickers that mean to destroy the Destroyer. Two against my armies. Two without weapons and only words to throw at me. What chance of that? I have you. There is only one man against me now. One man with a bit of white Magick to go against the greatest Dark Lord in the history of the world.” Moriarious grinned to himself. “Take this filth to the deepest part of my keep and make sure he dies a slow death. Give him water enough to keep him alive, but no crumb of food. Let us see how long you last?” Moriarious motioned for the removal and his minions rushed to obey his command.

(-_-)

John sat upon Tinny with Snowfall nearby chomping vegetation. He felt his lover’s pain and distress. Urgently, he sent his strongest healing Magick across their connection to Sherlock. He left the surface injuries and targeted those hurts that were deeper and more life threatening. His focus to heal imperative. Tinny was first to raise alarm at the many that came forward to surround John.

(-_-)

Alone at the bottom of a pit that was damp and smelled of rotting flesh. Sherlock had been unchained. The only outlet to his pit was far above his head. Candle light came through the small two by two foot grate that was Sherlock’s only light and hope of escape. 

Settling into the dark shadows of his cell. He felt the vibrant connection between John and himself. Across the long distances between them, he felt John’s loving touch. His healing spells fierce with healing power. Sherlock smiled at his lover’s great devotion to him.

“I am with you.” Sherlock said to the cold and the dark. “You are my light and my life. You are in me.” He felt the healing strengthen his body, as the injuries were reduced then removed completely.

Gingerly he touched his damaged face. Knowing for now that it would have to remain. That Moriarious had to believe that Sherlock was under his control. A pawn in this heinous game of chess.

“Now.” Sherlock said as he began his work. He focused his mind on the task before him. This had not been the plan. John and Sherlock were resilient enough to work with whatever fate gave them. Sherlock produced mental runes and sigils, placing them upon the filthy walls. Working with speed but without undue hast. John’s life depended upon Sherlock’s accuracy.

(-_-)

Moriarious’ spies were checking in frequently. The information coming in was not encouraging. John, the White Magicker had disappeared. How was that even possible? Too many of his spies were coming back empty handed. This irked Moriarious famously and he determined that he would decapitate the next person that brought him no news. There, that made him feel better. There was nothing to worry about these meager mortals would never get the better of him. He ordered another rash of village burnings in a near-by region and asked that the still hot ashes were couriered to him by next midday. It was going to be a wonderful night filled with fires that blazed against the horizon.

(-_-)

John was not restrained, Tinny and Snowfall walked on either side of him. The men who had come upon him while he had been lost in the healing thoughts for Sherlock walked all around him. They are unusually quiet, but offered no violence against him, merely asked him to accompany them to their leader.

A large tent was their destination, camouflaged against prying eyes. John wondered what was going on?

The huge tent flap was drawn aside and John entered.

“Healer,” the large gruff looking man said as he bowed low in respect to John’s main title. His hands pressed together to signify that he carried no weapons and no ill will towards the healer. 

John reciprocated with his hands together at the palms to signify the offer of peace was accepted and returned. 

“I’m Seneschal Lestrade. These lands belonged to my Lady Molly de Labranil originally. It has come to our attention that you are going up against Moriarious. We, the loyal subjects of my Lady, have remained without and within the keep. In hopes that a Magicker of great power would come. We are here to aid you in whatever way possible. To defeat Moriarious and return the lands to their rightful owner.

At this pronouncement, a young wisp of a woman dressed in man’s attire came forward. Her long honey colored hair bound up tight against her head. She smiled at John with her tiny mouth. Her sharp, intelligent eyes were on him and he knew that this must be the Lady de Labranil.

“My Lady.” He said as she offered her hand to him. John kissed the fair skin feeling Magick there. Compelling and intense, he looked up into her eyes that approved of him. Born of Magicker parents, her ladyship would be a force to-be-reckoned-with.

“Please call me Molly.” She said. “Let us begin. We have much to do now that you are finally with us.”


	3. The Price of the Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opening the portal maybe harmful to the Magicker that does it. John and Sherlock are trying to free the North. Will the Dark Light Host bring about Moriarious' downfall?

Moriarious confiscated Lady Labranil’s lands early in his rampage.

Everyone called her, Molly, titles not being important to her. She was a beneficent landowner; her people loved and respected her ‘new methods’. She built schools and healing houses. She made sure that the ill, injured and elderly are looked after. Her people protected and secreted her away from Moriarious at his invasion. Many stayed to serve him, but only so that there were eyes and ears inside the keep. Sequestered in shelters, the women and children of the North were close to supply stores kept all over the lands for just such an emergency. Innovative and secured against any possible bad situation, Molly was a gift to her people. Those men and women willing and able to join the cause to free the North stood ready to go to war at Molly’s word. 

Intelligent, compassionate and full of sentient Magick; Molly had been born with Magick, where others had to learn it. Magick was in her blood.

Impressed by Molly’s strategies and her Seneschal’s great ability to train and organized his people, John was thoroughly engaged by the diminutive woman warrior with an army at her back.

“We have heard about the two young men, Black and White Magickers who have worked together. How they sought out others to help against the devil Moriarious. We waited for your arrival. Unfortunately, we were too late to prevent the capture of your friend.” Lestrade said with real sadness in his voice.

“Do not concern yourself, Lestrade.” John advised him. “It was always our plan that one of us would be captured at some point. We had hoped it would be later rather than sooner. Fate, it seems, had a hand and Sherlock did not want me to be the one captured.”

“How was that a good plan?” Molly said tilting her head in disbelief as she stared into John’s eyes.

(-_-) 

Brought before Moriarious, Sherlock looked pale and weak. His bruised and bloody face untouched by John’s healing power. Clothing disgustingly dirty and foul smelling, he played his part well. Thrown at the feet of the Dark Lord, he cringed and tried valiantly to make a show of being brave against the overwhelming pain of his supposed injuries.

“So, the Dark Magicker, fresh from the land of Mists. I thought we had killed you months ago? How was it that you escaped the battle?” Moriarious asked with curiosity. 

“You murdered my people, you abomination. You killed my honored family. I alone remain to fight you.” Sherlock said with feigned waning strength.

“I did hope that my plans for ravaging your family had worked. So glad you could give me confirmation.” Moriarious chuckled to himself. “Where is the White Magicker? Tell me where he went and I will make your death quick and clean. Otherwise, you will become the focus of my favorite torturer. Sebastian, come forward and see your new project.”

With that summons, a tall blond man came forward. He was dressed in boiled leathers. His face scarred by many battles. He looked to be older and stronger than Sherlock. He looked to be devoid of humanity. He was, of course, the Truth Maker. Moriarious’ favorite torturer.

Sherlock shook with what everyone assumed was fear. He knew this man. A childhood bully that had made his early days a bleak nightmare. He knew this fiend very, very well.

(-_-)

Chained to a narrow wood table, Sherlock’s long arms and legs extended over the edges at the top and bottom. The chains holding him stationary also bent his extremities down toward the ground.

“We have played this game before, haven’t we?” Sebastian said his tenor voice reminded Sherlock of John. Sherlock thought a great deal about John. He did not want to think about Sebastian’s plans for him.

“You will tell me where the White Magicker is?”

“I don’t know. We had planned to scout the keep and then make contact with the locals to see if we could acquire information. We did not know that we would be separated so soon.”

Sebastian smiled. He was pretty sure that Sherlock was speaking the truth. It did not matter. He was the Truth Maker and he would make Sherlock speak whatever truth Moriarious wanted to hear. He took up a leather switch and palmed the flexible head between the fingers of his right hand.

Sherlock did not scream at first. He wanted to make Sebastian believe that he was being brave, being silent, eventually he pretended to succumb and babbled all manner of locations. It did not matter. Sebastian was not interested in anything but watching Sherlock scream in pain. It was just like old times. 

(-_-)

John felt each strike. He poured a calming influence into his soul mate. Bolstering Sherlock’s healing abilities and obliterating the continuing pain. John seethed inside; someone would pay for subjecting Sherlock to such abuse. 

Molly sat across the table from him and knew that he was radiating Magick to his Sherlock. “You did not want to leave his side that is apparent. He is very important to you.” It was not a question. 

“Yes, we had planned to find out if there were any local opposition before we made further attempts at our main objective.”

“What was your main objective?” Lestrade leaned forward to listen intently to John.

“One of Sherlock’s many talents is to open a portal between here and the Great Beyond.”

“That is a heavy Magick.” Molly said wide-eyed. “That would take huge amounts of energy. What good will opening a portal have?”

“Dark and White Magickers from beyond wish to move against Moriarious. Together, their Magicks powerful enough to stand against him and bring him low.” 

Lestrade sat back and let out a deep breath. “That would be a formidable host. Wielding that kind of Magick could be dangerous. Lethally dangerous.”

Molly looked to John and saw the resolve in his face. “Will you risk your lives to destroy Moriarious?” 

“I think we must.” John said without a moment’s hesitation.

(-_-) 

“He knows nothing of where the White Magicker resides.” Sebastian informed the Dark Lord. “He is as weak and mule headed as he ever was as a sickly child. Easily, his Magick’s circumvented, his body broken to your service, my Lord.”

“That is good to hear, Sebastian. I like all subjugates easily brought to my service. It is rather boring though. Would be nice to find someone with a bit of back bone.” Moriarious smiled, child-like and innocent. His eyes though, glowed with something vicious and cold. So very empty and cold.

(-_-)

Sherlock felt it. John was rallying a host of Lady Labranil’s, no Molly’s people to go against the Dark Lord. *That was not the plan, John.* Sherlock made his thoughts clear to John over their link. *Opening the portal, will give us strength aplenty.*

*At the cost of your life. The price is too high. Molly’s people are prepared and ready. They merely await her word.* John felt confident and happy that this new option was available.

*How many Magickers are there in her people?* Sherlock was not convinced.

*A hand full.* John came back.

Sherlock was stunned. Sitting heavily on the filthy floor of his cell. * YOU will lead them into battle, then, the first to die. Break me from this prison, so that I may fight and die at your side.*

*Ready yourself, my love.* John spoke gently across their strong link. *We invade this eve tide.*

Grief-stricken, Sherlock knew Moriarious was strong with the Magick of his demented, cruel power. The Dark Light host was necessary to defeat him. He waited until the eve tide mists were on the ground. Then his decision made, he turned to the task of opening the portal alone. Damn the consequences. He sent a parting wave of love and longing to John. Turning about his small cell, he began activating the sigils and signs inked in his own blood on the walls. Glowing with a light from beyond. The many encryptions fused together to form a portal of size and strength that would allow the host to enter above the keep from the rooftops. He felt his Magick spreading thin across the walls and then his own body felt bereft of its life force. His spirit moved to follow the host into battle. Leaving his body on the cell floor. 

(-_-)

“Sherlock!” John screamed as he clung to Tinny’s back. Feeling the wave of love, he determined what Sherlock was doing. “You mad bastard. You will not do this alone.” Throwing his reins to one of Molly’s people, he shouted at Molly. “I have to help Sherlock; I am leaving my body in your care. The Dark Light host are coming. Victory will be ours.” And with those words, John slumped in his saddle, as several of Molly’s people caught him before he fell to the ground. 

Molly left two of her most trusted men and women to return him to the safety of the rear station. They were to guard John at all costs. 

(-_-)

Ballads sung, stories told, and many a Northerner would hold up a tankard of mead and pay homage to the two Magickers, heroes of the battle of the Labranil Keep.

The Dark Light host arrived within the keep and brought their combined Magicks to defeat Moriarious. The people at the keep turned upon their dark master and joined in the fray. Opening the many doors to allow the rest of the Northerners to enter. Moriarious’ men were easily defeated. The hosts combined Dark Light Magicks devoured Moriarious’ Magicks. Yet, in the confusion and chaos of the taking of the keep, Moriarious and Sebastian eluded capture. 

(-_-)

Sherlock felt John move into position and take over holding the portal open. Suddenly, Sherlock was free, though he never wanted to be. Dealing with portals was Sherlock’s special ability. John’s was healing. Sherlock could feel John straining to hold the portal open wide to give the Dark Light host the time to finish Moriarious for good. Sherlock attempted to move to John’s side to help with the portal. John knowingly blocked him.

(-_-)

Sherlock can feel the portal begin to buckle, John’s Magicks fading.

“Leigh, the portal closes. John has taken my place in keeping the portal open. I must help him.”

“Go, and our good thoughts go with you.” Leigh said. As Sherlock departed, Dark Light Magick healed him and cleansed his soiled and torn clothing.

Sherlock sat in the huge empty main hall of the keep and concentrated on connecting with John. Nothing. Where the link was strong and energetic before. Now he could find no trace of it and Sherlock despaired. 

(-_-) 

Molly found Sherlock.

“Take me to him.” Sherlock’s asked immediately.

“What has happened?” She asked as they made their way to the horses.

Snowfall stood proud and pawed the ground in agitation. As if he too, knew that his rider was in a terrible hurry.

“He left his body to completely merge his Magick with mine. He blocked me from holding the portal open and with little knowledge of the process, held it open himself. The idiot.” Sherlock said those last words with love in his heart and emotion raining in his eyes.

Riding hard, they came to Molly’s camp. The guards that she had left were dead. Their bodies hacked and bloody, each one pinned to the ground with long pikes.

“Moriarious.” Sherlock breathed. “He has taken John. By the Darkness I will find him.”

“Let us go back to the keep, Sherlock. We can set up our headquarters there. My people should learn about this situation. Everyone will be on board to help us in any way possible. We will find him.”

“We must to so quickly, Molly. John is helpless. Our link is blocked. I fear that my lover is hostage to a mad man who delights in maiming and murder.”

(-_-)

John woke slowly. He could no longer feel Sherlock, nor the portal. Remembering being upon Tinny’s back, feeling Sherlock tackle the opening alone. Fearing for Sherlock’s life, he had manifested his soul, flinging himself into the void. To save Sherlock. What happened? Where was he?

The darkened room John resides in seems small to his other senses. He pulls himself up to a sitting position and waves of nausea spread through him. To his left a door opens and two men enter with a small lantern. 

“So your Magicks are affected Moriarious. The host has brought about your downfall.” John said feeling a joy that he knew would be short lived. “I have lived to see your coming doom. I can ask for nothing else in this life.”

“At the end, here at the bitter end. At last a man with backbone. Someone to stand tall against me.” Moriarious looked down at John as he came up to him.

“What would you have me do to him?” Sebastian ever the faithful servant knew of his master’s blood lust.

“I want to see just how strong that backbone is? Can I possibly break it? In other words we will be having a bit of fun, Sebastian.” 

Sebastian smiled in anticipation of what was to follow. Moriarious stooped next to John and lifted his chin up to view his face in light.

John’s midnight blue eyes shown. The dark blue holding a courage that Moriarious had not encountered before in his long demonic life; the courage overlaid with strength and endless resolve.

“Here is a man who will certainly not be boring.” Moriarious said with gusto. “Bring him, Sebastian. We must move to safer ground.”

(-_-)

Riders traversed the land. Molly’s people were keen on finding John. One of the Magickers responsible for freeing all if the North. Information came in slowly. Moriarious was on the move and he carried John with him. At least they knew that John still lived. 

Sherlock was tense and unusually irritable. Losing his connection to John was like having a limb amputated. Who knew what terrible things Moriarious was doing to John at this very moment? It could not end like this. 

“Maybe I can help.” Molly ventured.

“What do you propose?” Sherlock was willing to do anything.

“I think I might be able to create a spell that will open up the bond between you. That would help us, yes?”

“Yes.” Sherlock was crazed and anxious to begin.

“Let me warn you though. It will hurt…a great deal.”


	4. The Corrupted Corridor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock goes looking to open up his link to John. John is Moriarious' captive. The tides turn and Moriarious gets the upper hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is implied torture in this chapter. But no actual description of this abuse. If that is triggery for you. Be careful.

Molly situated everyone in a smaller healing room near the great hall. Comfortable beds where lined up against one-wall and healer’s herbs, books and instruments were in bookcases lining the other wall. There were windows to allow in light as well as great curtains to cover the windows to darken the room completely. Night’s darkness filled the room now, accented by small lanterns that hung at uniform positions for optimum lightening throughout the room.

“What must I do?” Sherlock was determined to help John, but without their mental link, it would be difficult to find him.

“We have to open the link again. I suspect that Moriarious has used the last vestiges of his Magicks to block it. So using myself as an anchor here, we will have to move from you to him.” Molly confident in her abilities gave Sherlock hope.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” Sherlock took a seat upon one of the closer beds at Molly’s bidding. 

“I believe that Moriarious has blocked the link by filling it with the debris of his magical defeat. Like clogging a tunnel with boulders. To open the line we much ram the opening from this side.”

“That sounds difficult.” Sherlock answered truthfully. 

“Yes, it will be very difficult and dangerous and if you choose…”

Sherlock did not let her finish. “He has John. I will expend any energy necessary; perform any act, to make sure the John comes home safe and whole. Tell me what I have to do.”

(-_-)

John woke to the dimness of a large room with the only light source being one high slender barred window. His body was slow to react to his commands. He remembered trying to protect Sherlock. Holding the gateway open for the Dark/Lighters. Not doing a very great job at it and then darkness and pain obliterated him completely. Moriarious, ah, by the Light, he was captive of the mad man. His thoughts caught up with him and he tried to reach out to Sherlock. The link, once so strong, was not there anymore. Was Sherlock dead? Oh, darkness and light he could not be dead. After all their work: to lose him now would end him. John shivered at the thought. Trying to pull his hands to face and found them chained to the floor. 

“Ah, I see the healer is awake at last. Sebastian, come let the healer fix that nasty cut you got while defending my honor.” Moriarious came in from the corridor carrying a small lantern.

“Moriarious, you have no honor. Your life is one big sink hole of corruption and deceit.” John stated. “I will not heal your torturer – murderer – accomplice.”

“John, you are a healer, sworn to heal all who come before you. How can you go against your nature? Sebastian is…”

“Sebastian is an animal who should be blasted into the Great Beyond. He serves no purpose or will but yours. A puppet to your madness. You haven’t killed me yet, so assume you have some plot in which I play a part.”

“You always were so clever, weren’t you, John.” 

Sebastian came into the room. He did indeed have a deep wound on his right side. 

“You need to wash that with soap and water.” John advised him. 

“Will you not heal me? Your powers are legendary.”

“No.” John replied. Looking into Sebastian’s eyes. 

The tall blonde man backhanded John. The blow would have sent him sent him across the floor but the chains on his wrists caught him up. A livid bruise started to show on his face, matched now by the damage done to his restrained wrists. 

“Do what you will,” John said with resolve. He would take whatever Sebastian and Moriarious brought forth. Hoping that Sherlock was safe somewhere. In his heart, he wanted to search for the lost connection. Realistically, he knew it would be ill advised. To open the link in Moriarious’ presence would put Sherlock in dire peril. 

(-_-)

Sherlock lay upon one of the beds in Molly’s healing room. Molly hovered near, Lestrade at her side.

“This spell that you have cast, do you think it will work?” Lestrade asked.

“It will depend on how strong the connection was before it was over thrown.” She said looking into his empathic eyes.

Lestrade took her hand in support. He knew that his position in her court would not preclude him asking for her hand in marriage. She was an unbelievably strong woman. Smart, gentle and progressive in her egalitarian views. He just had to come up with the courage to make the next move. 

(-_-)

Sherlock was alive and traveling through the aether of existence. His body lay within the confines of Lady Labranil’s keep. While his spirit searched for the bond that would let him connect to John again. He spread himself extremely thin and agony assault him on many levels. Molly had told him that something akin to pain was going to be his constant companion in this venture. Spirits were not build to traverse the aether, they could be compressed and contorted in this realm and while the hurt was not in any way similar to the physical pain of the body, it was as crushing and lethal. Sherlock screwed his courage and moved further and further into the aether. He would endure all, everything. His could not leave his lover to suffer at the hands of Moriarious.

(-_-)

John lay unconscious at Sebastian’s feet. There were formidable bruises and wounds covering his body. Moriarious had watched in fascination as his Sebastian performed the torture and maiming of John’s body.

“Shall I continue?” He asked as he looked to his Master for direction.

“No. It’s not at all fun if he is not able to respond to the torture. Now I think it is time to lower the spell that I cast to block their connection. If we can get the Dark Magicker here. We can have twice the fun.” He laughed wickedly as he stood to exit the room taking the lantern and the light with him. Sebastian followed, ever the faithful mongrel.

(-_-)

John opened his eyes. Using his diminished Magick, he tried to break the chains that bound him. Unable to perform this task. He did not understand what was preventing his Magick from working. He would not despair, as long as Sherlock lived, he would ask nothing more of the world. Finally, he looked to his own wounds. Using small spells at first, he sought to heal his injuries. He was the greatest healer of the Realms of Mist. Slowly he conjured his basic Magicks. He would need water and food soon. His energy levels were extremely low. He brought his head to his manacled hands so that he could touch his damaged face. 

*John?*

John shuttered at the name that found its way into his brain. “Sherlock.” He said the name softly. “You idiot, how are you doing this? I felt the connection go away?”

*Thoughts, John. Use thoughts.* Sherlock was emphatic.

*Sherlock.* John’s happiness and relief were evident. *You must stop this. Moriarious seeks to capture you.*

*I seek to retrieve you. Everyone is seeking something.* Sherlock’s thoughts seemed different somehow. 

*How are you doing this, Sherlock?*

*I traverse the aether to find you. I will always find you.* Sherlock thoughts weakened.

*You bloody idiot. Go away. You have found me. You know where I am. Go and do not let him catch you.* 

The connection faded and John shivered at the loss. “Hurry my love, the monster will not rest until he destroys us.”

(-_-)

Sherlock faltered, his energy draining. Traveling back to the keep was taking forever. He must tell Molly and Lestrade where John is. They can rescue John. Sherlock senses John’s presence. How can that be? 

*John?*

*Sherlock, you want John?* Moriarious’ thoughts were jagged shards of glass ripping up Sherlock’s essence. *I found a neat little trick in my travels.* Moriarious giggles like a naughty child. *I can purloin another’s Magick and use it against them. Hard to fight your own Magicks.*

Sherlock feels his concentration slipping. He wants to fight Moriarious, yet if he fights against John’s Magicks will affect John? He feels his spirit spiraling into the aether.

(-_-)

“Something is not right.” Molly was holding Sherlock’s hand. His luminous pale skin coloring had bleached out to a deathly white, a tinge of blue touching his lips. 

Lestrade touched Sherlock’s skin. “By the Magick White, his skin is cold. Is he dying?”

“He struggles in the aether. Help me gather the things that I will need. Time is short.”

(-_-)

Accosted by the lantern light that Sebastian carried into the room, John covered his eyes. Moriarious followed an ear-to-ear grin on his loathsome face.

“John, my dear. I’ve come bearing great gifts.” He brought his hands from behind his back. A large glass flask filled with darkness came into view. He placed the flask on the floor just out of John’s reach. 

John’s eyes went wide and he lunged toward the flask. “Sherlock!” He cried in desperation. Reaching as far as his chains would allow him. “Death eat your black heart, Moriarious.”

“You recognize your ‘friend’, do you? Rumor speaks that the Dark Magicker shares a bed with you.” 

John stared at the swirling darkness in the flask. He felt a weakened presence. It was Sherlock.

“If you keep him thus confined, he will die.” John started. “You already have me, Moriarious. Let Sherlock go.”

“The famous Dark - Light Magickers have ruined my life. Destroyed my Magicks. Therefore, I am going to return the favor. For now, I am tired and going to bed. In the morning, we will begin the fun. The two of you will surrender your Magicks to me and I will extinguish your then worthless lives. Good night John.” Using the toe of his boot, he gently pushed the flask closer to his captive.

Moonlight through the window was the only illumination. Straining against his chains, his fingers barely brushing the glass. John grasped the flask gently bringing it to his chest. Curling around it, he sent his energies toward the swirling darkness.

*Sherlock. Sherlock!*

*Here. I am here, John.*

*What in the Light were you thinking?* John thought.

*Had to find you. Moriarious used your Magicks to take me.*

*So that is why my Magicks are not working right.* John was stunned by the revelation. 

*Weak. Must rest.* Sherlock’s energies were fading quickly.

John pressed as much of his own energies into Sherlock. 

*Better?*

*Yes. Thank you.*

*I do not remember him taking my Magicks. Right now, my healing Magicks are the strongest. Are there wards on the glass? If I break it can you escape?* John was frantic to get Sherlock out of the glass and gone.

*Not certain. Was afraid to fight against your Magicks. Would it hurt you?* Sherlock felt more energetic.

*Look for wards in there. I am going to do a simple Magick here. We have to get you out of here.*

(-_-)

There was silence for a moment as both Magickers looked for internal or external wards that would keep Sherlock confined even if they broke the glass.

*Nothing in here.* Sherlock’s darkness swirled and shown with greater intensity.

*Nothing on the outside. I am going to smash the glass.* John lifted the flask and brought it down hard enough to break it into small pieces.

John placed his hand close to the moving darkness and it settled onto his palm. He lifted his hand as far as the chain on his wrist would allow him.

“Go Sherlock get away from here as fast as you can.”

The darkness moved up and away. Yet as soon as he moved too far away, he faltered and dropped back down to the floor.

*What is wrong? You okay?* John reached for Sherlock and brought him close again.

Sherlock’s darkness revitalized. 

John used his Magicks to scan his friend. *The link that is between us, locks is together now. Moriarious has corrupted it. If we move too far from one another, we both start to die.*

*Bugger,* was all Sherlock could think.


	5. Saving Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarious steals John away. All is not lost. Sherlock is not having it. Willing to risk all to save John, but who will save him?

Lestrade and Molly were worrying over Sherlock. 

“I’m going to mix something up that might help,” Molly said. “I want you to stay here and watch him, Gregory.”

“What do I do if something happens?” 

“I’ll just be over in that corner, love. So you just have to raise your voice.” Molly blushed a bit after she realized she had voiced her affection openly.

Lestrade took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I know this is not the best time, I have words to say that have lingered too long on my tongue.”

Molly grasped Gregory’s collar and brought that handsome face and those willing lips to hers. She kissed him thoroughly and passionately. His surprised wide eyes closed in absolute pleasure.

“If you do not mind wedding a Magicker woman, I can promise a life full of wonderful revelations.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, than to experience all your revelations.” He brought her into his warm embrace and then gave her up. “I know you have Magicks to perform. I will take no more of your time now. Later I will be there for you.”

(-_-)

Molly prepared a potion that she rubbed into Sherlock’s skin. 

“What will this do?” Gregory felt helpless to assist in these Magicker ways.

“Sherlock is neither a corporal body nor a spirit being. He is stuck in between. This will allow more of his physicality to be at his end and give us more information about where he is.”

(-_-)

*We have the night to figure something out.* John thought to Sherlock’s darkness. In the morning, Moriarious will take us apart, literally. If he obtains our Magick’s, the twelve realms will suffer greatly.*

*You remember nothing of how he took your Magicks?* Sherlock asked.

*No, I was holding the portal open.*

*You know that is not your strength. You should never have attempted it without me.* Sherlock’s thoughts were troubled.

*I was holding the portal open. It was difficult. My mind was spiraling and I lost control of…everything.*

*You were bending your Magicks to a task that was not your main strength. Possibly, there is a vulnerability in that activity.* 

*You let Moriarious capture you, fearing that if you fought him as he was wielding my Magicks you would hurt me. So each time he has under mined our weaknesses and fears to gain the upper hand.*

A shiver assaulted Sherlock’s dark form. Suddenly the swirling darkness that John knew was Sherlock, actually took on a shape. It was Sherlock. He was not corporal. Not flesh and blood. He looked like a faded image of himself. John reached out to touch him and his fingers found no purchase. He was but an image.

“Molly.” John breathed.

“Yes, our dear Molly has much to teach us.” Sherlock smiled his tiny smile. The one he did only for John. 

John’s heart soared at the welcomed sight of his lover. To know Sherlock was with him felt great, but to see him was fantastic.

“We have to strengthen the bond, John. I will not let these men injure you further.” Sherlock was strong with his intent and it washed through them both. 

John placed his hand as far as it could reach towards Sherlock. The Dark Magicker brought his two hands to engulf John’s bruised flesh.

Both John and Sherlock jumped fractionally. There was no flesh-to-flesh contact, yet there was sensation. 

“That has never happened before.” John commented.

“Possibly Molly continues to help us.” Sherlock ran his hands along where he could see John’s arms. 

“Let us hold out hope.” John said lovingly. “Now we converge our Magicks. We will be stronger in all aspects of each other’s abilities leaving Moriarious no way to accost either of us.”

Together, John and Sherlock merged their talents and abilities. Something never attempted before to their knowledge.

(-_-)

Sebastian entered the prisoner’s cell. John sat amidst the shattered glass. Small cuts adorned his arms. His eyes were red rimmed and vacant. He made no sound nor did acknowledge his captors presence.

“So you tried to free the Dark Magicker. How did that go?” Sebastian spoke sarcastically. 

“His spirit could not hold together and he dissipated into the moonlight. At least he will not have to endure your tortures.” John’s steely blue eyes cut into the man before him. “You will pay for the lives that you have taken and the violence that you have wrought.” John said with great certainty.

“I think you must not be aware of your present situation. I am master of your fate and the Dark Lord wants you to pay for his fall from power. Shall we begin?”

Sebastian touched the air bringing his instruments of torture into reach. “I think we should start with the simple things, don’t you?”

Moriarious could hear the grunted groans of his prisoner as Sebastian began his vicious acts. He walked leisurely into the chamber, sitting in a comfortable chair far in the corner. He wanted to watch as his beast took the White Magicker apart. He would use every drop of blood from the Magickers body to make a new Magick he was contemplating. He would take the White Magick and corrupt it totally. He would turn good to his despicable purpose. Chaos would reign supreme with the pure power of the White Magicker bent to his will.

(-_-)

*Hold, Sherlock.* John thought hard toward Sherlock as Sebastian viewed the injury he inflicted on John’s body. *Hold, my love. Keep to the plan.* 

John could feel Sherlock rankle with each blow that hit him. With each hurt. He was ready to burst, to fly, to finish the bedevilment that was Moriarious and his disciple, Sebastian.

The Portal opened at their combined Magick.

The Dark Light host came into the present. Standing where the North wall of the torture chamber had stood. Standing at the gateway to the Great Beyond. 

Leigh Watsonian stood among Host, together their merged Magicks cast shadow and light into the dim and wretched room. 

“We have need of chaos and its companion in the Great Beyond.” He said matter-of-factly. “The Ancients sent us to unravel this cloth of deadly threads, Moriarious, the Great Beyond calls for you.”

John stood, chains no longer holding him down. His body cleansed and healing, his spirit lover at his side.

Moriarious wailed and fought against the coming of the Host. Sebastian knelt by his masters side. His fair beauty the only thing that Moriarious would be able to take with him when he left the world. Tendrils of Magick rose from the earth to encircle Moriarious and Sebastian. Slowly, dragged toward the portal, their muffled cries became barely audible. 

“Beloved grandfather, great and glorious host.” John addressed his grandfather and the Great Dark Light host with respect and gratitude. “Your coming brings peace to the land, your presence honors us.” John said with great humility. 

“We worried when the portal closed and Moriarious was not among us.” He looked to his grandson with his lover standing close. Leigh saw that Sherlock’s image was subdued. “You best see to your sweet one, your Dark Magicker has been too long from his body. He fades.”

John turned to Sherlock. Sadly, his lover now appeared a ghostly apparition whose edges grew more and more faded with each moment. “I must return Sherlock to his body. We can no longer hold the portal open. I am sorry our meeting is so short.”

“Be gone.” Leigh smiled knowing the truth of his grandson’s words. “I am proud of your life and your life choices.” 

“Thank you.” John basked briefly in his grandfathers’ love.

The Portal closed. Hurriedly John cast a containment spell to hold Sherlock’s spirit wrapped in his love. Holding the containment in his arms John knew that he must get Sherlock back to his corporeal body as soon as possible.

Exiting the building where he had been imprisoned, John found horses in a nearby stable. Relieved he outfitted and mounted a chestnut and set the animal on a course for Molly’s keep. 

“Stay with me, Sherlock. Don’t you dare leave me now.” John coaxed Sherlock’s spirit to continue to shine.

He rode steadily into the coming twilight. “Please don’t leave me.” He held Sherlock tightly and tears stung his dark blue eyes.

(-_-)

Molly and Greg knew where John was. Sherlock had given them directions before his complete transformation into the spirit realm. Knowing that Sherlock could not exist in that realm for long, they mounted a rescue mission, moving swiftly taking Sherlock’s body with them as they rushed to John’s side.

Molly signaled Greg from the inside the carriage that contained Sherlock’s body. 

“Greg, he is going cold.” Molly said from one of the down turned windows.

“Is there anything that we can do?” Greg was willing to do anything to help the Magicker that had saved his land from the chaos that was Moriarious.

“If we were back at the keep there are Magicks we could try.” Molly looked back at Sherlock. “I want to risk touching my life force to his. It might keep his body going as we move forward. Yet, I risk much. If anything goes wrong we both could die.” She looked to Greg.

“Molly…” Greg was finding it hard to speak the words. “I, there is love in my heart for you. I would not risk your life, but I would gladly risk my own. Can you use my life force?”

Molly physically melted at his words. “Yes, I can make it work.” She felt great pride in her chosen. 

Greg handed his horses reigns to one of his men and entered into the carriage as he bade the driver continue on to their destination.

(-_-)

John did not push his horse too far. It would do him no good to exhaust the animal. He held Sherlock’s spirit close. Sending healing energy into the containment that held his lover. 

“Sherlock, I cannot lose you now when we have defeated Moriarious. Not now.” He strained his Magicks, pushing energy into the fading strength of Sherlock’s spirit.

Then, oh then, a stirring of strength invaded the spirit that was Sherlock Holmes. John felt a new surge of energy that came channeled through Molly’s Magicks. A mortal man whose love for a Magicker woman drove his desire to heal and protect the two men who had saved the Realms and risked their lives doing so.

John felt Sherlock’s life force strengthen and stretch out, basking in the renewal. 

*John, Molly and Greg come toward us. The ordeal ends soon. I can return to my body now.*

John removed the containment field about his lover and felt the energy flow away from him. He slowed his horses pace a bit. He opened up his Magicker heart to gather energy from world. To renew his powers and revitalize himself after his ordeal. The world, so vital and alive, even after Moriarious’ devastations filled him with wonder and delight. As he reveled in each vibrant breath.

(-_-)

It was getting near the evening tide mists when the company stopped to set up camp and John came upon them. Sherlock flung himself upon John. Taking him down onto the moss covered ground of the forest. 

“You, you are never to try to open portals without me. You idiot.” Sherlock said as he smothered John in his loving embrace and demanding kisses. “You are never allowed to leave my side again, John. Is that understood?”

John’s wicked little smile pressed his small lips onto Sherlock’s. The kiss melted them both with its heat and desire.

Molly stood with Greg at her side. Their clasped hands displaying their budding relationship, like a signpost painted with garish colors.

“Gentlemen, I believe you should consider removing your homecoming to one of our many tents.” Greg said with good humor.

Sherlock stood pulling John up with him. John brushed himself off and strode toward Molly and Greg.

“I cannot express my appreciation for your assistance in this Molly, Greg.” He opened his arms as he brought his New Magick to place a beatification upon the couple. Infusing them both with the mark of his White/Dark strength.

Sherlock stood behind John and embraced him. 

Molly was startled and overcome with this new revelation. “From the negativity of Moriarious’ terror, a new hope is born. John, Sherlock, none have attempted this before. Your courage and abilities will grace a world that sorely needs healing and change.” Molly beamed at John as she and Greg bent their head in mutual acknowledgement of John and Sherlock’ sharing of power.

“There is healing to do, repair and replenishment of the land and the people,” Sherlock begin. “Yet, I think that a good night’s rest is needed by all.”

“We you forgo the feasting and drinking in your honor?” Greg said as he pressed a chaste kiss onto Molly’s brow.

“I think we will come up for air and food and drink soon enough.” John drew Sherlock as close as he could. “Come, love.” He didn’t have to coerce the Dark/Light Magicker at all as them moved towards an empty tent.

Molly took Greg’s hand and they moved into the circle of light their campfires gave off. Warmth, good food and the companionship of their people awaited them. The glow of the Dark/Light Magick still radiated from them. 

“The world is changed Greg and the change will transform and transfix us all.” Molly said as their people rumbled their approval at their approach. 

‘Molly and Greg’ the crowds cheered. ‘John and Sherlock’ they roared.

The lovers smiled into each other’s eyes as they heard the commotion outside their tent, but didn’t stop their lovemaking, knowing the world would give them this time. Their time at last.


End file.
